Cyclical
by Settiai
Summary: "[T]o know that we will have long years of peace, and that you will be Sybil after me is important. And good."


Something had happened. I felt the faint presence of Her hand at my back, gently shaking me awake.

My eyes opened to darkness, but it wasn't the eternal black of earth and stone. It was more transient, dim moonlight shining through the doorway and making darker shadows slowly become visible. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, the familiar visage of the temple came into view.

I sat up in my bed, looking around in an attempt to see what it was that had caused me to awaken. There was still a hint of my Lady's presence in the air around me, a tingling at the back of my neck and a coolness where Her hand had touched me, but it held no urgency. Not for me, at least.

Not for me.

It took a moment for me to realize what that might mean, longer than perhaps it should have taken, and my gaze quickly moved on toward Kianna's bed. It did not surprise me to see it empty.

I stood up quickly or, at least, as quickly as was possible in my condition. I put a hand on my swollen stomach as I stood, willing the child within to remain still. In some ways, this time had been more difficult than both of my previous children. I had been ill more often, and the child never seemed to cease moving. For once, though, she was quiet and I hoped she would stay that way if only for a few moments.

I did not bother to put on my veil as I walked out of the sleeping quarters into the main room of the temple, even though it was not quite proper for me to be without. It was late, very late judging by the angle of the moonlight, and there would be no one out and about at this time of night. No once except Kianna, of course, and it did not matter if she saw me for who I was. She would someday be Sybil, once I was gone.

It did not take me long to find her. She was barely even a maiden and had only recently begun staying at the temple with me at night, now that Tia finally had another child to fill her arms. Still, for a moment, as her red hair shone like flames in the moonlight, I could see the woman she would one day become. The priestess who would replace me, once my time had come to an end. The face that my Lady would one day wear.

Kianna was standing in the doorway, staring up at the night sky as if she was drinking in the sight.

I made a quiet sound, enough to alert of her of my presence. She let out a startled gasp and spun around, her eyes widening when she saw me. "Mother!"

I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile and took a few steps toward her. Then I reached forward and rested one hand on her shoulder, the other slipping under her chin and gently raising her head. "What did you see?" I asked quietly.

Her eyes grew even wider, fear and confusion shining clearly in them. There was something else there, though, something almost familiar. She bit her lip nervously.

"It was a dream," she said hesitantly, as if she wasn't certain the words she was speaking were true. "It was not about me. I did not make sense."

It took some effort, the child I was carrying making my movements slow and clumsy, but I knelt down so that I was level with her. "What did you see?" I repeated gently.

She looked away. "I saw a city," she said softly. Then she licked her lips. "A wondrous city, unlike anything I have ever seen before. It was familiar, as if I had known it forever, but I—I never—"

I reached out and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Perhaps you saw what someday may be," I said. "Perhaps you will one day live in that city, someone who used to be Kianna, and that is what you saw."

Kianna met my gaze then. "Have you—"

She trailed off, her face flushing. I simply smiled and squeezed her hand again. "Yes," I said simply. "I have, many times, just as I expect you will."

She bit her lip again, nervously, and I was reminded again that she was very young.

"Do you remember what the Lady showed you at the Feast of Descent, when you first became my acolyte?" I asked her.

Kianna nodded.

"It is the same thing," I said, smiling at her. "What you saw is what may one day be. The person who will see that city is still you. He or she may not be Kianna, not then, but they will have once been Kianna. They will have once been Sybil."

At that, she looked away.

Part of me wanted to frown, but I did not. It had been many years since then, but I remember how I had felt when I first realized that someday She Who Had Been Pythia would not be there. She had been a second mother to me, just as I was to Kianna. I could not blame her for not being ready to accept that one day I would be gone. Not yet, when she was still so young.

"It is late to be still awake," I said quietly, "and early to have awoken. It would do us both good to return to bed."

Kianna stood there for a moment, not moving. Then she gave a small nod. Smiling at her, I pushed myself back to my feet with only a little difficulty.

Without warning, Kianna threw herself at me and hugged me tightly. Her arms did not quite go around my swollen middle.

"Mother, do you think you will be in that city with the me that may one day be?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

I reached down and ruffled her hair. "Perhaps," I agreed. "Not even the gods know what the future may hold."


End file.
